


“Secrets? I love secrets.”

by RobinLeStrange



Series: Strike Fictober 2019 [18]
Category: Cormoran Strike Series - Robert Galbraith, Strike (TV 2017)
Genre: Confessions, Drunkenness, Fictober 2019, Oh Dear, Secrets, Strike is an enigma, and Robin loves secrets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-18
Updated: 2019-10-20
Packaged: 2020-12-17 04:57:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21048677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RobinLeStrange/pseuds/RobinLeStrange
Summary: A boozy night at the Tottenham leads to Strike telling Robin his most closely guarded secret.





	1. "Secrets? I love secrets."

“I’m something of an ‘nigma, I’ll have you know,” slurred Strike, “I have m’secrets.” He tapped the side of his nose and raised an eyebrow.

Robin chuckled as she steered him gently back towards Denmark Street.

"Secrets?” she nodded archly, “I love secrets.”

He stopped short and turned to look at her thoughtfully.

“D’ya want me to tell you a secret Robin?”

“Go on then.”

“S’a big one, c’mere…” he pulled her closer and bent down to whisper in her ear, not noticing her shiver at the feel of his hot breath on her skin.

“I really fancy you Ellacott.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've decided to turn this into a mini story with a drabble a day for the next week. Some run alongside Fictober prompts, some will be in addition to the prompt of the day.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How will Robin react to Strike's drunken confession?

Robin froze momentarily as Strike released his arm from around her waist.

“Do you now?” she grinned, eyebrows raised. “I suspect that might be the Doom Bar talking.”

She rummaged in her bag for the door keys, both unable and unwilling to meet his eye. She didn’t want to risk seeing regret there.

“Come on, up you go, Mr Beer Goggles,” she chivvied him up the stairs.

Strike, suddenly considerably more sober, did as he was told, and they were soon at his front door.

“Right,” she said, “I’ll see you Monday…drink some water.”

And with that she was gone.


	3. "You could talk about it, you know."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after the night before, and Strike's drunken confession. The Herberts get involved.
> 
> Comprising today's Fictober Prompt, plus an additional drabble from Robin and Ilsa's perspective.

**Strike & Nick **  
  
“Fuck’s sake, Nick,” groaned Strike, head in hands, “How the hell am I going to face her on Monday morning?”  
  
Nick tried to suppress a smirk at his friend’s predicament. Making a drunken declaration that you fancied your business partner, to their face, was bound to be tricky to live down.  
  
“You could talk about it, you know,” he suggested.  
  
Strike looked horrified.  
  
“You never know, she might even feel the same?”  
  
He does have it bad, thought Nick as he watched Strike toy with his untouched bacon roll.  
  
He looked up.  
  
“Do you really think so?” he said hopefully.  
  
**Robin & Ilsa **  
  
“Good night last night?” Ilsa knew that her friends had been celebrating the conclusion of a big case.  
  
Robin blushed furiously into her cappuccino, “Ummm…”  
  
“Ummm?” Ilsa’s face was a picture of intrigue, “Go on spill, what happened.”  
  
Robin bit her lip and deliberated, unsure he’d thank her for sharing, particularly with his best friend.  
  
“Cormoran said he fancies me.”  
  
Ilsa spluttered peppermint tea across the table. “About bloody time!”  
  
“Really?”  
  
“Are you kidding me? So…did you snog him?”  
  
“God no! I laughed it off, he was pissed. Do you think he meant it then?”  
  
“Oh Robin…” sighed Ilsa.  
  
“Oh.”


	4. Monday Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Strike's drunken Friday night confession, Robin heads to work, bracing herself for a potentially awkward conversation

It was the Monday morning after _that_ Friday night, and the tube journey to Denmark Street seemed both interminably slow and way too fast, as Robin tried to order her thoughts.  
  
_I wonder if we could have a chance? _  
  
Strike was in his office when she arrived. Shrugging her coat off she headed to the kitchenette to make coffee, trying to ignore the fact her hands were shaking. Palpitations kicked in as she heard his footsteps approach.  
  
_Deep breath, you can do this. What ever happens it will fine. _  
  
“Morning Robin,” he greeted her, sheepishly. “Can we have a chat?”


	5. "We could have a chance."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time for another confession...

“About Friday night…” Strike paused. Why had he let Nick convince him this was a good idea?

“Yes?” Robin’s blue-grey gaze was disconcertingly calm.

“I meant what I said,” he blushed furiously beneath his stubble. “I do really fancy you.”

She smiled and he felt his heart beat a little faster.

“Actually, to tell you the truth Robin, I think I might be a little bit in love with you.”

She was beaming now, moving closer, her hand soft on his cheek.

“So,” he grinned back shyly, pulling her into his arms “Do you think we could have a chance?”


	6. "Patience...is not something I'm known for."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A week after Strike drunkenly confessed his feeling for Robin, she goes on a girls' night out with Ilsa.

“So, what’s happening? You said you had something exciting to tell me.” Ilsa was almost dragging Robin to a table.

“Calm down woman! Let’s get the drinks in first, have a bit of patience.”

“Patience…” whined Ilsa, “…is not something I’m know for.” 

Robin returned with a bottle of rosé and two glasses.

“So, you know I told you about what Cormoran said when he was drunk last Friday?”

Ilsa nodded, eyes like saucers.

“We talked about it on Monday…”

“And…”

Robin took a large sip of wine and grinned, “Let’s just say your patience with us has been rewarded!”


	7. "I could really eat something."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robin and Strike work up an appetite ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Couldn't let this mini story go without just a little touch of smut!

Robin awakes, her body still humming with pleasure. She rolls over, stretches languorously and smiles at Strike’s naked, sleep-rumpled figure laying next to her.   
  
_At last. _  
  
He opens his eyes and pulls her closer, relishing this moment that he once thought would never happen. “You okay?” he asks.   
  
“Mmmm...” she murmurs contentedly as he nuzzles into her neck, "...although I could really eat something.”   
  
“Hey,” he admonishes, chuckling gently as his lips make their way slowly down her throat and across her breasts. “That’s my line.”   
  
She giggles and then gasps as his mouth moves lower. Maybe breakfast can wait.


End file.
